Playing the Odds
by AZGirl
Summary: The odds of surviving Russian Roulette only got worse as you went along - unless you have an ace up your sleeve. Filler and spoilers for 2.18 All In.


**Disclaimer**: Person of Interest is not mine. I'm just borrowing the concepts and characters for a little while.

**Spoilers**: 2.18 All In

**A/N**: I wish I could've spent more time on this, but I have a deadline looming over me.

**ooooooo**

When Makris confronted them outside the Venus Casino, Reese knew without being told that Finch and Leon had been caught. He briefly considered fighting his way out the predicament, but knew the odds weren't good especially with Lou likely to be caught in the crossfire. Instead he tamped down his first instinct and allowed the casino owner's goons to take him and the old man in, knowing it would lead him to Finch. Not reacting and letting that goon punch him, letting himself stumble and look weak had been difficult but necessary.

It was worth the cut on his cheek when they'd been led into the room where Harold and Leon were being kept. Seeing his friends tied up but reasonably well had been a relief even as he was pushed down into a chair and tied up along with them. Now he just had to wait and watch for an opportunity. The odds still weren't in their favor but he'd lived through worse situations.

As Reese quickly noted the positions of Makris' goons, he almost laughed when the guy's ego was allowed to run rampant and he began monologuing. Not that he was complaining, but why did the bad guys ever think it was a good idea to procrastinate in killing their enemies? And how did losing at Russian Roulette prove that Lou Mitchell was only ever going to be a loser? That 'game' was just a matter of playing the odds, nothing else.

Watching as Lou was forced to load the revolver, he thought he spotted the old man palming the single bullet, but he wasn't absolutely positive. He knew Harold had a better view of the card mechanic's hands, but the computer genius wasn't giving anything away.

When the gun was pointed at him, Reese couldn't help but figure out the odds in case he was wrong and there really was a bullet in one of those six chambers. 1 in 6 odds. A 16.7% chance he could die.

He could live with that. Hell, in the past, the odds of his dying had been much, much worse.

When he'd heard the gun click on an empty chamber, he couldn't help the opposite but equally intense reactions of relief and worry that he felt. When the gun was pointed as Leon, he steadfastly refused to look at the shorter man as he pleaded with Reese to be saved. John recalculated the odds: 1 in 5; a 20% chance the other man could be killed. It was harder to live with, but he still held onto the idea that Lou had managed to palm the bullet.

The loud click as the gun once again hit upon an empty chamber didn't bring the relief he'd expected but rather it ratcheted up the worry. Next in line for a potential bullet was Finch, and if he was wrong, if he hadn't seen what he'd thought he'd seen… If he just sat there and let his friend be killed, he would never, ever forgive himself. Continuing to save the Numbers would never erase the guilt of Harold's death if he was wrong.

He tried to not let doubt in Lou's abilities creep in, but it was a losing battle.

Makris forced the gun to point at Finch and yet his friend didn't seem all that concerned at the fact that he had only a 1 in 4 chance of escaping a bullet. His partner's calm at the situation was enabling him to fight the doubt that was festering in his mind, but he still found himself unable to act for fear of risking any lives.

Harold then looked over at Lou and with a serene yet confident voice said, "Sometimes your luck just runs out."

_That_ caught his attention and his eyes were immediately drawn towards Finch. The doubt he should never have had suddenly evaporated and he sprang into action, knowing that his friend's words were the signal he was waiting for.

In what seemed longer, but was probably no more than a minute later, he turned at the sound of the revolver clicking at more empty chambers. He'd been right; Lou had palmed the bullet.

Seeing Lou produce the bullet, hearing him state that he'd cheated just before hitting Makris with a right cross had practically made his week.

Overall it had been a good day. The bad guy was going to jail, his friends had survived, and Lou would not only get his wedding ring but his life back as well.

Sometimes it was worth playing the odds, even if you had to cheat to win.

ooooooo

_The end._

**ooooooo**

_**Thanks for reading!**_


End file.
